


last ones out

by rosie_should_be_going_to_right_now



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosie_should_be_going_to_right_now/pseuds/rosie_should_be_going_to_right_now
Summary: Two old friends have a (slightly drunken) chat
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 37





	last ones out

**Author's Note:**

> I spent far too much time on this, and I am now exhausted. Enjoy!

Neither of them wanted to talk about it. 

And yet. 

They were sitting in the first floor drawing room, the air still heavy with dust despite their best efforts. Remus had thought it best to vacate the kitchen as Kreacher had been discovered at last in the attic, and Sirius clearly found his elated humming immensely grating. It was hours after their conversation with Harry and Remus couldn't stop thinking about it. He'd always known logically that Harry was not James but sometimes he allowed himself the weakness of imagining Harry as a reincarnation of his friend. It was naive of course. Childish. He already seemed older than James had ever been. At fifteen James had known nothing of grief or infamy, or any of the countless hardships Harry had suffered over these past few years. It made perfect sense that Harry couldn't connect the great wizard he'd heard about with the immature, arrogant teenager he'd seen in that shameful memory. 

Remus sighed and looked up from the newspaper he was barely pretending to read. Across the room, illuminated by the fading light, Sirius was sitting on an old armchair, staring unseeingly ahead. Remus met his gaze. The corner of Sirius's mouth twisted upwards into the shadow of a confident, brazen smile. 

"A glass or two of Ogden's?" Sirius said lightly. 

Remus made an effort to appear disapproving. Sirius's smile widened at the sight of the familiar expression. He had always been adept at navigating Remus's objections when it came to rule breaking and recklessness. 

"Come on Moony, it's not like either of us have anything to do right now. I know you finished that report you were doing earlier." 

"I have to speak to Severus about continuing Harry's Occlumency lessons," he reminded Sirius sternly, despite his undeniable temptation. 

Sirius waved a dismissive hand. 

"Leave Snivellus alone 'til morning. I'd say he'll come to his senses soon enough, anyway." 

Remus doubted that. If anything, the age old wound that Harry had inadvertently opened would only fester over time. Remus knew no one who could nurture a grudge like Severus Snape. Outside the window, the sky was darkening to a velvety blue, only a distant trace of pink and gold left. Perhaps Severus would be in below in the dungeons by now getting ready for bed. An image came to mind of a greasy haired figure cocooned in black blankets, hanging upside down like bat. Remus bit back a smile. Against his better judgement he nodded. Surely, that uncomfortable conversation could be had tomorrow. 

"Alright then, just a drop. We're _not_ having half the bottle. I mean it, Padfoot." 

Sirius rolled his eyes and sprang up from his seat eagerly. He made his way towards a small table covered in various glass bottles over by the door. Remus couldn't help but notice that this table was the least dusty piece of furniture in the room. He watched slightly warily as Sirius poured a generous amount of firewhiskey into two glasses. Definitely more than just a drop. He accepted his glass without comment nevertheless. Sirius settled down next to him on the musty sofa, lighting the chandelier overhead with a lazy flick of his wrist. They didn't speak for a few moments. Sirius threw back a well practiced slug of his drink. Remus winced as he took a hesitant sip. It had been years since he'd had firewhiskey and it burned more than he remembered. Sirius looked at him, raising an eyebrow in question. 

"I don't like drinking alone and I don't like drinking when I'm feeling sorry for myself," Remus said, trying to keep a defensive edge out of his voice. "Therefore....... well..." 

He didn't feel it would be necessary to explain himself any further. He took another sip, marginally larger than the last, breaking eye contact in the process. He didn't want to see the expression on Sirius's face, whatever it was. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sirius nod in understanding. 

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, the sun fully set now. Remus felt warm and pleasantly heavy. If it weren't for the guilt churning in his stomach he would be rather content. He thought, yet again, of Harry's worried face, floating in the fireplace. If his life didn't get easier soon Harry would be grey haired and wrinkled by twenty five just like he'd been. Sirius began to tap his glass rapidly, his posture stiff. Remus waited for him to speak. 

"I think I expect too much of Harry," Sirius said finally, after what felt to Remus like an eternity of tapping. He watched as Sirius drank another large gulp of firewhiskey, grimacing slightly at the burn. 

"He's fifteen years old and a better person than we were at twenty. When we were his age we were messing around in the Shrieking Shack and hexing people who pissed us off, and he's teaching kids defence in his spare time. He has so much on his plate already, yet there's still that horrible, selfish part of me that wants him to be James. He probably even feels _guilty_ about not being exactly what I'd hoped for. Or at least he did before now." 

He let out a strange humourless laugh, distinct from his usual bark of amusement. Remus turned to face him properly. Guilt and shame were etched into every inch of Sirius's face, his mouth pinched tightly as if to stop any more words from escaping. His hands were tightly clenched around his glass. 

"He'll be alright, you know," Remus said, partly to reassure Sirius and partly for his own sake. Silence fell again briefly as they both drank, Sirius draining the last drops from his glass. 

"I hope he knows..... I hope he knows that I think the world of him," Sirius said, breaking the silence again, his voice gone slightly hoarse. 

"The next time you see him, make sure you tell him that. If I know Harry at all, he won't believe it until he hears it." 

Remus had reached the bottom of his own glass by now. He gently plucked Sirius's glass from his hand, and stood up. He was faintly surprised to find himself slightly off balance. He leaned against the arm of the sofa momentarily while he found his feet. Sirius had noticed his unsteadiness and he looked greatly amused by it. He smirked haughtily up at him, both of his eyebrows raised mockingly. 

"You always were a bit of a lightweight Moony-" 

Remus cut him off with the stoniest look he could muster. Sirius laughed- loudly and genuinely this time. The sound of it warmed Remus more than the firewhiskey ever could. He carefully made his way over to the drinks table, pouring out another generous amount for the two of them. He then cast a Sealing Charm on all of the glass bottles as surreptitiously as he could. Sirius narrowed his eyes as he took his glass back. 

"What did you do?" he asked suspiciously. "You're looking a bit shifty, mate." 

Remus shrugged, sitting back down again next to him. He knew Sirius would be bitterly affronted if he knew the extent of Remus's worries about his drinking habits.

"Just making sure that these are the last drinks we have tonight," he said casually, ignoring the growl of disgust his words caused. 

Sirius muttered mutinously under his breath about overly responsible prats, in a bizarrely familiar way for the next few minutes. Remus couldn't help but stupidly grin when he realised who he was being reminded of. Sirius scowled at him. 

"What?" 

"Nothing. Just think Kreacher might be rubbing off on you." 

Sirius let out an exaggerated scandalised gasp. 

"Take that back. Moony, I mean it," he warned. There was an achingly familiar glint in his eye, forewarning future mischief. 

"No. You sound _exactly_ like him," Remus replied in the taunting voice he had only ever dared use when speaking to James or Sirius. 

He shielded his head with his arms as a barrage of coasters bearing the Black coat of arms rose from a small coffee table and clumsily began to attack him. He batted them away, surprised to feel a giddy laugh building up at the back of his throat. A few of the coasters broke through his defences only to halfheartedly slap him in the face before falling to the floor. Remus found himself giggling loudly- the sound seeming alien to his own ears. 

"Apologise!" Sirius shouted imperiously. It would be a perfect impersonation of his mother if not for the fact that he was laughing. "You _dare_ insult the last member of the most noble, most pure, most inbred of all magical families!" 

He summoned a filthy looking velvet cushion from across the room. It hovered threateningly over Remus, who shook his head, his laughter rendering him mute. The cushion walloped him soundly over the head, showering him in a truly spectacular amount of dust. He sputtered and coughed, still chortling despite himself. Sirius clearly didn't think his plan through because he himself was covered in so much dust, that he looked almost ghostly. The two of them looked at each other, both shrouded in a disgusting layer of age-old grime. They snorted with laughter, then coughed in unison. Waves of uncontrollable mirth washed over the two of them, Sirius's wheezes setting Remus off again whenever he drew breath.

"Whoops," Sirius said, once they had stopped both laughing and coughing. "Haven't laughed like that in _years."_

Remus realised quite suddenly that he hadn't either. He hadn't had much to laugh about since Lily and James died. Since Peter had committed mass murder and Sirius had gone to Azkaban for it. It was a rather sobering thought. He cleared his throat and began to siphon as much dust as possible out of his glass of firewhiskey to give himself something to do. He did the same for Sirius. Wordlessly, they clinked their glasses together and downed the last of their drinks. 

Remus was undoubtedly drunk now. His limbs felt loose and his cheeks felt very warm. He let his heavy head loll backwards, the sofa taking some of its weight. He knew Sirius was watching him. He felt like he could hear his smug little smirk. He'd always made fun of Remus for his pitiably low tolerance in the old days. 

"Shut up, Padfoot," Remus said. He turned his head to the right and yes, Sirius was smirking.

Wanker. 

"Didn't say anything," he replied, looking smugger than ever. His face arranged itself into a look of forlorn disappointment. "It's just sad to see a prefect fall so far from grace." 

Remus hit him lightly in the arm, causing another small disturbance of dust. It was an old joke, one that Sirius had rather overdone during their first year out of Hogwarts, when drinking with other members of the Order became a common occurrence, normally after they'd had a big victory or loss. So much time had passed since then, and the stale joke made Remus feel oddly nostalgic for those early days, peppered with tragedy though they were.

He allowed his eyes to drift to Sirius's face and stay there, drunken affection welling up inside him. It was the same face it had always been, but now there was the dark shadow of stubble on his jaw, and bags under his eyes. The crease between the eyebrows Sirius used to get on the rare occasions that he was stressed had become a permanent fixture of his face at some point. Remus wanted to smooth that crease. He reached out his hand without making a conscious decision to do so.

The crease between Sirius's eyebrows deepened. Remus realised, even in his present state that it would be strange to touch Sirius's face without warning. He changed course quickly, brushing a bit of dust from Sirius's hair.

He still looked rather bemused.

"You look like an old man with all that dust in your hair." The reasoning sounded weak to Remus's ears but Sirius didn't push. His face relaxed slightly, and he resumed his earlier glass tapping. Remus thought he knew what Sirius was about to ask.

"What's Harry like at school? I'm beginning to realise that I don't know him very well."

Remus grinned wryly in anticipation of the reaction his words were about to cause.

"He's good. He really is a good boy."

Sirius groaned loudly. "James is turning in his grave, I just know it. _A good boy._ " He shook his head in disappointment.

"You already knew that. You're just being dramatic."

"There's a difference between secretly suspecting something, and being told plainly!"

Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius was looking at him impatiently, and it took Remus a moment or two to understand that he wanted him to elaborate on Harry's behaviour at school.

"Let's see..." It was as if his brain was filled with thick syrup. It took a while to locate his memories of teaching at Hogwarts two years earlier. Merlin, being drunk could be very inconvenient when one actually wanted to remember. He didn't enjoy this feeling of being blunted, slow.

Sirius smiled wickedly as if he could sense Remus's frustration at being slightly inebriated. "Go on then."

"He seemed to be... embarrassed a lot of the time," Remus began.

Sirius nodded understandingly. "Thirteen is hard. I got a spot on my chin when I was thirteen." He shivered as if the memory of it still carried residual mortification.

"Only one?" 

"Why yes, I was blessed with flawless skin."

Remus opened his mouth to argue, but found that he had no memory of Sirius ever having a bad outbreak of acne. He scowled and continued, ignoring Sirius's self satisfied expression.

"Look, my brain isn't working properly right now but... I think Harry is... as we've already established, different to James. I noticed that year that he dislikes being in the limelight. He sat near the back of the class next to Ron and he rarely called any attention to himself. He always gave in his homework on time, and it was often excellent." He paused. "His essays did sometimes look as if they had been corrected already though."

Sirius snorted. "You and Hermione Granger are like two peas in a pod. You used to finish my essays for me all the time, remember that?"

Remus did remember. He would wordlessly swipe parchment away from Sirius every so often when his quiet grumbling about being bored to death by homework became unbearable. He had felt a sort of kinship towards Hermione on more than one occasion during his short teaching career. She displayed a familiar desperation to prove she belonged at Hogwarts. He thought it was fitting that she was the first student to come to the conclusion that he was a werewolf. Remus had been very impressed with Harry's choice of friends.

Which brought him to his next point.

"He kept his circle of friends rather small. He got along well with his classmates, but he stuck to Ron and Hermione for the most part. In fact, I don't think he has any interest in popularity at all."

Remus stopped speaking then. He felt inordinately proud of himself for speaking coherently. His mouth didn't really feel as though it belonged to him.

Sirius was quiet as he took this in. 

"He broke rules though, didn't he?"

Remus laughed. "Don't worry, the Cloak isn't collecting dust in Harry's possession. He likes to wander as much as we did, I suspect." A memory came to him then, clear, despite the general haziness of his mind.

"Did I tell you the full story of how I got the Map back?"

Sirius shook his head.

"Good. You'll like this one."

As Remus had predicted, Sirius thoroughly enjoyed hearing about Harry's exploit in Hogsmeade; Draco Malfoy's claim that he had been pelted with mud by an invisible attacker, the appearance of Harry's head floating in place, Harry standing flushed and breathless in Snape's office trying to act as though he hadn't been outside the castle grounds despite his pockets full of Zonko's merchandise. He roared with laughter as Remus described the insults written on the Map directed at Snape.

"I'd forgotten about that security measure," he said cheerfully, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "And of course, we added insults that would be specific to Snivellus, because no one else cared or even _suspected_ that we had a magical map."

He frowned slightly at Remus. "How on _Earth_ did you get Harry out of that one?"

"You assume that I got him out of it?" Remus asked, trying to look dignified and responsible from his slumped position on the grimy old sofa.

Sirius gave him a look that said " _obviously"._

Remus felt his face shifting into a guilty smile against his will. "I said someone had clearly brought presents back for Harry after the previous visit to Hogsmeade. Severus didn't believe that for a second, but then as luck would have it, Ron turned up- looking like he'd just run the length of the country- and announced that he was the one who had bought everything."

Sirius was delighted at this. "He chose his friends well," he said, a faraway look in his eye as if he was trying to imagine the scene, a vague smile on his face.

His gaze drifted and landed somewhere behind Remus. Some degree of the amusement seemed to slip out of his expression. Remus turned around, wondering if Kreacher had sneaked into the room.

Comprehension dawned as he noticed the ostentatious tapestry on the wall. The family tree.

"Draco Malfoy," Sirius muttered. "Of course. I'd almost forgotten about Cissy's little pureblood prince, my..... second cousin? Is that right?"

"First cousin once removed," Remus answered automatically, immediately regretting his rapid answer. He hoped Sirius wouldn't notice.

He noticed of course. He brought his gaze back to Remus's, a teasing smile appearing on his lips. Remus wondered if it was just his imagination playing tricks on him that Sirius's smile didn't seem to quite reach his eyes.

"Ah yes. You would know all about my first cousins once removed."

Remus could sense an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. "Don't know what you're referring to," he mumbled. He didn't want to talk about the horrendous situation with Dora, not to anyone, and especially not to Sirius.

He cleared his throat. He stood up and made towards the family tree, as if deeply interested in learning about Sirius's ancestry. He made a concerted effort to walk in a straight line to his destination. A creak in the floorboards behind him told him that Sirius had followed in his wake. They stood together in front of the crowded tapestry. Remus had never looked closely at it before. It was a blatant, disgusting monument to blood purity but he found himself fascinated by it, despite himself.

Sirius's name was blasted off, unsurprisingly.

For some inexplicable reason, Remus's attention was drawn to the name right next to where Sirius's should have been: Regulus Black.

He could still visualise him; small for his age, with Sirius's dark hair and grey eyes, an almost permanently disdainful expression on his slightly squashed looking face. Sirius had pretended to be unaffected by his death when he heard the news. He had wrinkled his nose and muttered something along the lines of "....prat shouldn't have got himself involved". He had often lapsed into sour-faced silence in the weeks afterwards, however. Remus had felt helpless watching Sirius's lonely grief for a family member he had frequently said he detested. For all of his supposed wisdom and maturity beyond his years he had had no idea how best to comfort his friend.

He still didn't.

Sirius was now staring at the same spot on the tapestry. "Idiot," he muttered.

"Was he?" The words came out in a whisper.

There was a long silence. Remus wondered whether Sirius had heard him speak.

"No. No he wasn't." Sirius's voice was a croak. "That's why I was so angry at him for joining. He was clever. He should have been clever enough to see it all for what it was."

Remus remained immobile, eyes trained on the neatly written name, but he observed Sirius from the corner of his eye.

Sirius took a deep shuddering breath. "Even worse than that, I always knew he had some good in him. He was always feeding pigeons from his bedroom window. Trying to convince Kreacher that it was alright if he didn't want to have his decapitated head hung on the wall when he died." He laughed grimly. "If there's one thing I know for sure about Reg, it's that he was never cruel."

Remus wanted to say something, anything, but his throat felt dry. He felt unsteady, off balance, and not just because of the alcohol in his bloodstream.

"Being back here again... I keep thinking about what I could have done to help him. I resented him for being the golden boy but I never really considered that he had his own burdens to bear. He was only fourteen and I left him......... I left him behind with my parents. I let him down." Sirius's face looked oddly twisted, as if he was fighting back tears.

Unconsciously, Remus turned and reached out to touch his elbow. He sensed that Sirius had never said any of this out loud before.

A memory came to Remus then, rising from some forgotten recess of his mind, clear as day. A Quidditch match in seventh year, the first game of the season. Slytherin versus Ravenclaw, therefore the majority of the school was cheering Ravenclaw on, including the Marauders. Around twenty minutes in, the crowd gasped as one. The Snitch had been spotted, hovering a few feet above the ground. The two Seekers dived; hurtling towards the ground at breakneck speed. The Slytherin Seeker was clearly quicker, his hand outstretched, mere centimetres from the small, golden ball. A Bludger, unnoticed by almost everyone, seemed to come from nowhere. There was a sickening _crack._ The Slytherin Seeker crumpled. Ravenclaw won in the blink of an eye. The stands erupted in cheers, but Remus paid the crowd no mind. Beside him, Sirius had gone very still, his face drained of blood. He did not join in on the rude chant James had started, as he usually would have. Instead he stood frozen, staring at a small dark-haired figure in green robes lying motionless on the pitch.

It was the most frightened Remus had ever seen him.

"You were a child yourself, Sirius," Remus reminded him quietly. 

Sirius shook his head, as if brushing off his words. "I think it's what I do. I'm too hard on people, I let everyone I love down. First Regulus, then James and Lily, now Harry-"

"You are _not_ letting Harry down," Remus cut in, his voice gone sharp. "He's got you, and you're not going anywhere are you?"

Sirius laughed derisively. He couldn't go anywhere if he wanted to.

"You know what I mean." Remus tried to make his voice softer, gentler. "You are a flawed man; I'll be the first to acknowledge that. You can be arrogant, rude and sometimes needlessly aggressive."

Sirius looked insulted by this.

" _But,_ " Remus quickly carried on, "You are also loyal and protective and _loving._ I'm certain that Regulus knew you loved him. He knew."

Sirius met his gaze, his expression youthful in its hope.

"You think so?"

"Yes." Remus felt sure of it. 

He stepped forward and carefully folded Sirius into his arms. He wasn't physically affectionate under normal circumstances but Sirius was the exception to most of his rules. One of his hands came to rest on Sirius's back, the other at the nape of his neck. Sirius buried his face in his shoulder. Moments passed. Neither of them moved, but to tighten their hold on one another. Sirius made a muffled sound which may have been a small sob.

They stood, swaying slightly on the spot, almost as if they were slow dancing, for a long time; a pleasant eternity. The ancient house creaked and groaned around them, the sound not unlike a mournful long-lasting song.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you enjoyed this. Constructive criticism is welcome!


End file.
